


The Muffin Bet

by Squilkey



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Bets, Fluff, M/M, Muffins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 21:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16503104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squilkey/pseuds/Squilkey
Summary: Cyrus always put his faith in Buffy, even if he probably shouldn't. Now, he had to find a way to get TJ a blueberry macadamia muffin.





	The Muffin Bet

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop thinking about bets after this episode wowohwow but anyway i wanted to write this first and foremost because goddamn these kids are cute

He really hadn’t expected Buffy to admit she was nervous, it was very out of character for her, especially around TJ. And now he had lost a bet he was sure to win. He had spent all night thinking of the most obnoxious flavours of muffin he could request, and now the roles were flipped. He would be suffering.

_Then I guess you have your work cut out for you_

Why did TJ have to make such an impossible request? In hindsight, he should have seen it coming; Cyrus had really screwed him over the week before when TJ lost their bet on his first math test of the year. TJ would never bet in favour of him doing well, so maybe Cyrus took a _little_ advantage there. But he assumed the excitement of getting a B outweighed the punishment of TJ having to get Cyrus a chocolate-butterscotch muffin — which he somehow achieved. Okay, he probably deserved this. Blueberry macadamia? It had to exist _somewhere._

He spent all afternoon researching bakeries and the muffins they sold, with no luck. He wished he could ask TJ where he got his specialty muffin from, but that would pretty much be like admitting defeat. When he was lying in bed that night, he came to the conclusion that he was going to have to suck it up and personally ask stores to make it for him. 

The first store he went to didn’t have any muffins. He frowned down at his phone, which indicated that they did, indeed, bake and sell muffins, but he opted for avoiding confrontation and made his way to the other bakery down the street. 

This one had muffins, which was a good sign. He approached the counter and the woman managing it smiled at him. 

“Hi, sweetie. What can I get for you?”

“Hi,” Cyrus smiled back. “I was wondering if you could bake specialty muffins?” 

The woman looked back toward the kitchen and then turned back to Cyrus. “You’re in luck, we haven’t closed the kitchen yet. What did you want?” 

“Blueberry Macadamia?” He requested. The woman frowned almost immediately, which caused Cyrus to frown.

“I’m sorry, honey. We don’t have macadamia nuts here.”

Cyrus looked over the muffins and sighed, “Thanks anyway.” 

He stopped at the door on his way out. “What if I brought the nuts here and then you baked them into a blueberry muffin?” He offered. The woman just laughed and shook her head. “No?” Cyrus answered for himself. “Health code violation?” 

She nodded, “Health code violation.” Cyrus thanked her again and walked out into the street. There was one more bakery a walkable distance from where he was, and he immediately set off for it. 

He had to ask up at the counter again, as there was nothing in sight that could work. Unfortunately, they didn’t make blueberry macadamia nut muffins, and they didn’t bake special requests the day of. Cyrus stood staring at their collection of muffins, cursing himself for making that bet. They had blueberry, maybe Cyrus could just buy macadamia nuts and press them into the muffins? No, TJ definitely wouldn’t count that. 

Cyrus sighed and thanked the man behind the counter: he was off to the grocery store. Luckily, his mom always had baking supplies in the cabinet, so he really only needed to purchase blueberries and macadamias. He grabbed some muffin liners at the check out, just in case, and paid for it all. 

The macadamia nuts ended up being surprisingly expensive, and Cyrus was surprised when he had to hand over a $20 for his three items. He was going to follow through, however, he had come this far.

He carried the items home and dumped them out on his kitchen counter, wondering where his starting point would be. A recipe, yes, he would need one of those. He looked to his mom’s cookbook collection and then down at his phone. She might have some good recipes, but the internet was faster, and he could add the word ‘best’ in front of his search.

He clicked the first result, which looked perfect. He scrolled through a story about the history of the macadamia nut, but stopped to read the history of this recipe — it was the author’s grandmothers. 

Enough time wasted, he looked at the ingredients list and sighed. There were fifteen. Fifteen different ingredients? For muffins? He wandered back and forth between the cupboards, fridge, and pantry for almost a quarter of an hour trying to find everything. 

He lined up all the ingredients in front of him, it was overwhelming. Cyrus had never _really_ baked before. Sure, he had done cookies and brownies but those come out of a box and needed, like, an egg. This was like a whole other world to him.

_1\. Preheat the oven._ He could do that, turning on an oven was easy. He pushed in the dial and turned it to 375. The light went on, perfect. These were going to be the best muffins TJ ever tasted, better than the ones he had given Cyrus last week. Well, maybe not, but he could try.

He pulled the muffin tray out and placed it on the counter, carefully dropping the liners in. He frowned at the recipe, did he really want to make twelve muffins? He looked at all the ingredients and their measurements; this was going to be hard enough without doing extra math, twelve it was.

_2\. Use an electric mixer…_ Did they have one of those? He rummaged through the bottom cabinets, and ended up finding a hand-held one. He placed it down on the counter next to his bowl while he measured out all the ingredients. As he attempted to pour in the sugar, his elbow bumped one of the eggs off the counter, sending it to the floor. He heard it crack, but didn’t want to look at the damages. Instead, he took the surviving egg and placed it back into the carton for safe keeping. 

He held the butter in his hand. _Melted._ How do you melt butter? The microwave? That seemed to be his best bet. He dropped it into a small bowl and stuck it in the microwaves for thirty seconds, keeping a close eye on it. Another thirty seconds and it looked like soup, which seemed correct. He added this to the sugar mixture and then held the mixer above the two. He flicked it on and then immediately back off when it started spinning. Maybe start with it in the bowl? That seemed smarter. He dropped it down into the bowl and then flicked it to the lowest setting, holding it firmly in place. It surprisingly went okay, save a few specks of sugar going flying. 

_Cream until light and fluffy._ Cyrus looked down at the mixture, it looked light and fluffy-ish. He decided to move on. _Add salt._ Done. _And beat in one egg at a time._ Definitely wouldn’t be as easy as the salt. He took an egg out of the carton and knocked it on the rim of the bowl. Nothing. He hit it harder and it cracked open. He managed to catch most of the shell before it went into the mixture. Anything that did go in would get blended—he hoped. He put the beater back down into the bowl and pushed it on again, mixing the egg in thoroughly. The instructions didn’t tell him when he was supposed to add the second egg, so he waited five minutes and then added it. 

3\. _In a medium bowl…_ Cyrus frowned he needed two bowls or was this the same bowl? He read on, _Add to mixing bowl._ Okay, two bowls. He went looking for a second one and noticed that he had a text. He flipped open his phone. 

_From ‘Scary’ Basketball Guy: Be there @ 4. Sound good?_

His eyes flickered up to the time: It was 3:30. He looked over to his recipe, it would take thirty minutes to bake. Cyrus considered this for a moment, it would be pretty cool if TJ came over and the muffins were baking, then Cyrus could show them off to him as they came out of the oven. 

_To ‘Scary’ Basketball Guy: Sure, see you soon :)_

Back to work, he mixed the flour and baking soda together in the new bowl. _Alternate with buttermilk._ He frowned at his phone, then looked up at his line of ingredients. He definitely didn’t have buttermilk. He scrolled up and read the ingredients list again. Buttermilk? It was there, how had he overlooked it? He compared the list to his ingredients; he had milk out on the counter, which wasn’t listed. He sighed and switched to a browser on his phone, googling what to substitute for buttermilk.

_A cup of milk and a tablespoon of lemon juice._ He could do that, they had lemons. He rifled through the fridge drawer and pulled one out, placing it among all his ingredients. He stared at everything for a moment, the mess of sugar and flour now on the counter, the cracked egg still on the floor, the heap of ingredients he still had to deal with, and sighed. He couldn’t turn back now, TJ would be there soon. 

He cut open the lemon and squeezed it into a spoon, pouring it into a cup measurement and then adding the milk. The instructions said to let it sit for five minutes, so he read ahead on the muffin recipe. He decided to cut up the macadamia nuts and crush the blueberries while he was waiting. When he was done, he looked back at his lemon-milk mixture. It looked sad, but it would have to do. He added it to the mixing bowl, along with the other bowl he had, and mixed it all together on medium speed. He lost control for a second, and a bit of batter spilled onto the counter and dripped to the floor. There would be a lot to clean up.

_4\. Mix in the crushed blueberries, whole blueberries, and nuts._ And he had messed up again, he had crushed all the blueberries. Luckily there were still some in the punnet, so he used half of those and a little more than was requested of the crushed ones. He mixed it until the blueberries and nuts looked even and then poured it into the muffin cups. 

_5\. To make topping,_ there were a lot of ingredients for the topping, and another bowl needed. He mixed everything together, using only a wooden spoon this time, and sprinkled it on top of the muffins. It seemed to slightly sink into the batter, and he hoped that wouldn’t affect the look of them. If anything, he really wanted them to just _look_ good. 

He opened the oven and placed the tray inside, setting a timer for twenty-five minutes. The hard part was done, now all he could do is wait. He looked at the time, it was 3:52. Instead of attempting to even touch the kitchen with a sponge, he dropped down onto the couch in the other room, pulling out his phone. 

_To ‘Scary’ Basketball Guy: I have a surprise btw_

_From ‘Scary’ Basketball Guy: Oh yeah? I might too >:)_

Cyrus wasn’t sure how he should take that message, but he hoped he wasn’t going to one-up his muffins. Though, it probably wouldn’t be very hard if his baking skills had anything to say about it. 

At 4:06, TJ knocked on his door. He smiled when Cyrus opened it, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“So what’s my surprise?” He asked.

“You’ll have to wait,” he checked his phone, “Ten more minutes.” 

“I’m excited,” TJ commented, walking past Cyrus toward the kitchen. Cyrus ran in front of him, grabbing his arm. 

“Wait, you can’t go in there,” he protested. 

TJ stopped. “No? Hm, I wonder what my surprise is,” he mused. Cyrus rolled his eyes and pulled the boy in the other direction, toward the living room.

“What’s my surprise?” He asked as they sat down on the couch. 

“I think I’m going to wait until I see my surprise,” he said. 

“Why?”

“You’ll get it when you get it,” TJ replied. 

Cyrus was confused, “Huh?” 

TJ just laughed. “How hard did you try to buy this muffin?” He asked. 

“None of your business. Besides, I definitely should have won that bet.” 

“In what way?” 

“You literally leaned over her shoulder and asked if she was nervous! That’s baiting, plain and simple,” Cyrus argued. 

“Too bad we never established any real rules over this bet,” TJ pointed out, grinning at him. Cyrus found it hard to argue when he was smiling like that, but he also realised they hadn’t established any ground laws. He frowned. “Cheer up,” TJ said, throwing an arm around Cyrus’ shoulders. “We can always bet on something else? Say, how many people end up joining Buffy’s team?”

Cyrus shook his head, “I think I’m done betting on basketball-related events with you, it somehow seems a little unfair.” He smiled at TJ, who smiled in return. 

“Fair enough,” he said. They stared at each other, smiling for what seemed like no reason, TJ’s arm still around Cyrus. It seemed like the perfect moment to say something, maybe do something—Cyrus’ phone alarm went off, causing him to jump backwards. TJ laughed, “You okay?” 

“Yeah! Muff—I mean, I’m going to go get your surprise!” He heard TJ laugh as he ran into the kitchen. He turned the dial on the oven and slipped on the oven mitts, opening up the door. He frowned at what he saw. They didn’t look like the muffins at school, or the muffins at the bakeries, or the muffin TJ had given him last week. He looked at the time, it had definitely been twenty-five minutes. He sighed and pulled the tray out regardless. Pushing it onto the counter. 

How was he going to present these to TJ? They didn’t look right at all, and Cyrus was sure they didn’t taste amazing. He dropped to the kitchen floor, dropping his head back against the cabinet behind him. Why did he ever think this was a good idea? Why didn’t he just admit defeat to TJ and take whatever the punishment was for not fulfilling bet consequences? He was going to have to go out there and embarrass himself now. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself to confront TJ. 

When he opened his eyes back up, TJ was standing above him. “You okay?” He asked. “Looks a little messy in here.”

“You weren’t supposed to come in here,” Cyrus whined. “I’m sorry, I tried, I really did, baking is impossible.” TJ chuckled and walked over to the counter with all of his ingredients. He fingered through them.

“You have baking soda out instead of baking powder,” he commented. Cyrus sighed. “And why is there a cut up lemon?” 

“I didn’t have buttermilk so I made some with lemon and milk,” he explained.

“Impressive.”

“I looked it up on google.” 

TJ laughed, “I know you did. White vinegar would have worked a little better, I think.” Cyrus frowned, how did he know that? “Did you even open the vanilla?” TJ commented, holding up the small bottle. 

Cyrus shrugged. “I honestly don’t remember, a lot of the baking process is a blur.” He closed his eyes again.

“There’s an egg on the floor,” he said, more to himself than to Cyrus. “Hey.” Cyrus opened his eyes, TJ was crouched in front of him. “I’m impressed with how hard you tried, honestly. I’m sure the muffins don’t taste bad, despite a few ingredient errors.” 

“You’re just trying to be nice,” Cyrus said. 

“Maybe,” TJ admitted. “Do you want me to have one?”

“No! Please don’t.” 

“Okay.” He sat down and put his backpack in between them, unzipping it and pulling out a container. 

Cyrus frowned, “What—” He cut himself off when TJ opened the container, which held four blueberry macadamia nut muffins. “Is this your surprise?” 

TJ shrugged, “I wanted to compare muffins. We won’t have to eat any, if this has been too stressful,” he said, attempting to close the container. 

Cyrus put his hand in the way. “I definitely want to try your muffins,” he said. TJ smiled and held up the container, Cyrus took one and then TJ helped himself. He watched as Cyrus took a bite. “Seriously? Where are you getting these?” 

TJ laughed. “You like them?” 

“They’re amazing,” he mumbled through bites of muffin. 

TJ considered this and then took a bite. “Yeah, they’re pretty good,” he admitted. 

“Can you tell me where you get them if we agree not to bet on muffins anymore?” Cyrus asked. 

“I made them, Underdog.” 

“What? You _made_ these? And the ones last week? The butterscotch chocolate?” 

“Yeah,” TJ said shyly. “Don’t act _so_ surprised.” 

“They’re just, really good, TJ. Like, really good.” He took another bite. 

TJ went red, “Thanks,” he mumbled, taking another bite. 

“How about this,” Cyrus began, “We continue with the bets, winner gets to pick the muffin, loser has to buy the ingredients, and we make them together.” TJ rose an eyebrow. “Well, you make them and I’ll do whatever I can to stay out of the way.” 

TJ smiled. “Yeah? This whole baking experience hasn’t scarred you from cooking ever again?”

“It seems like it would actually be pretty fun if I hadn’t been so stressed,” Cyrus admitted. “Especially if I had someone to do it with. Besides, I kind of want to watch you bake.”

“You want to watch me bake?” TJ teased. 

Cyrus flicked a piece of muffin at TJ in response. He caught it in his mouth and grinned. Cyrus stuck out his tongue. “You want to help me clean up this mess?” Cyrus asked. 

“Maybe,” TJ replied, flicking a piece of muffin back at him. 

**Author's Note:**

> be on the lookout for more bet-related fics...hmmm


End file.
